The Demon and the Banshee
by Charshee
Summary: The darkness within him wants to play. With her, specifically. *LEMONY LEMON! Also, as always, I'd love some reviews! (I would die for some reviews!) :)* Stydia!
1. Chapter 1

The darkness fed his taste for her. The thing that lurked within him wanted nothing more than to sink it's teeth into her yielding flesh. The sudden bouts of lust at the very sight of her were not unusual, but he'd never had to physically stop himself from slamming her against the nearest wall and fucking her into oblivion before this thing became a part of him. Though he'd imagined it enough. She didn't seem to suspect his torrid thoughts, however, and was often to be found in his vicinity since his trip to the afterlife. This night their sanctuary from the world was her bedroom, where they sat surrounded by calculus textbooks. The numbers no longer made sense to Stiles, since Lydia had crossed her legs in such away that he got a glimpse of lace between her sweet thighs.

The wickedness squatting on his soul lifted it's head, eyes sparked like a predator spotting it's prey. Silently Stiles wrestled with the thing, pressing his palms to his eyes until he saw spots. It was a losing battle, and he cursed his own weakness. She swung her legs off the bed and walked over to the window. Rain hit it like bullets and the world was hidden by the night and a howling storm. She was momentarily silhouetted as a flash of lightning filled the room, and in that moment he moved at an inhuman speed, coming to stand behind her.

"Lydia, I think we're done studying."

"I think you're right." She giggled, surprised at his quickness in joining her. She hadn't noticed the edge to his voice. A dark tone that hadn't been there before.

Next thing she knew she was clasped against his chest, arms pinned to her sides, with his hand clamped down over her mouth. She squirmed against him, but his hold was firm.

"Relax." He whispered, his lips at her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. But if you scream I will punish you. Understand?" She nodded, wide-eyed and clearly confused. He moved his hand from her mouth.

"What the hell, Stiles!" She exclaimed as soon as she was able, attempting to wriggle out of his unyielding hold. "Let me go! This isn't funny!"  
He didn't answer, simply brushed her hair over her shoulder, giving himself access to her slim white neck. The monster inside groaned. He leaned in, and pressed his lips into the hollow beneath her ear.

"I'm not trying to be funny." She heard it this time, the growl beneath his words, as his hot breath hit her skin and she felt herself shudder involuntarily. She suddenly became acutely aware of his form pressed hard against her own.

"Wh-whaat the fuck do you think you're doing then?" She'd tried to sound defiant, but her voice cracked when his tongue flicked against her skin. A fire began to spark into life somewhere beneath her naval. His hand snaked it's way down the side of her body, coming to rest just bellow her hip, his fingertips dangerously close to her centre which tingled with misguided anticipation in response.

"Hmm... I'm hurt, Lydia. Can't you tell what I'm doing?" She blushed at his words, something she hadn't been made to do for years. His fingers traveled further south, coming to rest at he hem of her little dress. He caught her ear between his teeth, and she let out a whimper. He chuckled at her reaction, a dark, filthy sound that made her sure that her knees had evaporated and that she was soon to crumple to the carpet. He held her up and purred,

"If you want to play, sweetheart, we can play. But you'll be doing things my way. If you want me to stop, tell me, but know you'll be missing out." He already knew the answer, and wasn't surprised when she made no protest, though she was shocked at her own eagerness to continue. A part of her begged herself to realise just how un-Stiles he was being, but that part was stifled as his fingertips began teasing at the skin just beneath the hem of her dress. Her legs opened by an inch, a silent beg that he give her inner thighs the same treatment. He gave into her desires for a moment, going so far as to hook his finger under the elastic of her underwear. She made a whimper like nothing he'd heard before and he fought the urge to tear them off and push himself into her right then. But he fought it, the demon inside enjoyed anticipation as much as Stiles himself did.

"Did you think I'd indulge you so quickly?" He muttered, abandoning her thighs and finding his way to the zipper at the back of her dress. Trusting that she would not run, and he could move faster anyway, he let her go, tugging down the dresses zip as he did so. He made quick work of the garment. Soon it pooled around her feet, leaving her self conscious and exposed. She crossed her arms over her chest, her attempt at modesty only making her all the more vulnerable a plaything in the wicked thing's eyes.

He circled her like a jungle cat, inexplicable shyness causing her to lower her eyes to the floor, unable to meet his hungry gaze. She could hear the blood rushing in her head, and feel the wetness spreading between her legs. Lydia didn't know why she was letting this happen to her, she only knew that it felt too good to stop. Too good to resist.


	2. Chapter 2

He disappeared somewhere behind her, some part of her told her not to move, but she could just see his reflection in her mirror. He was rooting around in her closet, but she couldn't see what he chose. His breath was all of a sudden on he back of her neck, he pushed her hair aside and began tracing a line from her hair line with his fingertip. She visibly shivered, and he laughed as his finger came to a halt between her shoulder blades. Fox's smirk in place, he whispered to her,

"Close your eyes, and put your hands in front of you, crossed at the wrist." She did as instructed, still unable to comprehend her inability to break the spell. It had been a while since she'd been alone with a boy like _this_, but there was something more to it. Something in the air, a heady blanket of lust that she had so unexpectedly found herself smothered by. And there was him. The lithe way he had moved around her, the electricity that was sparking through his fingertips and into her skin, that dark new note to his being that made her feel more vulnerable than she ever had. He was no longer behind her, and she felt something cool and smooth wrap around her wrists a few times, then a sharp tug.

"Open." He stood before her, her wrists were tied with her thin black belt, and she had to admit she didn't mind it as much as she'd thought she would. In fact it stoked the fire within her so much so that she had to bite back an unexpected moan of approval. Her reaction did not go unnoticed, and he grinned at her. The kitsune cupped her chin and lifted her face to his, finally capturing her lips in a kiss that made her head swim, despite it's gentleness.

"We knew you'd be dirty, darling." He murmured to her, and she rose to his words, seeking another taste of his lips, which he gave her gladly. This kiss was deeper, he twisted his fingers through her hair and sought her tongue with his. For a moment he was more man than monster, the feeling of her harmonizing with his own humanity. But the moment was snatched away by the darkness, which did not intend on losing control of it's host again. He had already planned this out, the demon loved having such a quick-thinking mind at it's disposal. As he kissed her he pulled from his back pocket a scarf he'd taken from her closet, and tied it around the belt.

"Now," he said, "close them." Lydia shut her eyes again, and found herself being led to what she judged to be roughly the centre of the room. She heard him climb onto her bed, and her arms were raised above her. She peeked upwards, and felt a flutter of fear. He'd found the hoop in the ceiling from which a frilly pink bed curtain had hung in her youth. The scarf he had tightly tied through it, leaving her strung up and at his mercy.

"I thought I'd told you to close your eyes." He said, hopping off the bed and stepping back to admire his handy work.

"Stiles, I-" She began, but he tutted at her.

"Are you afraid? I'm sure you are. I told you that you needn't be. Don't you trust us? Well, I know you trust him. You mustn't trust me. But something tells me you don't mind that so much. But I won't hurt you, not really."

"Stiles, what are you talking about?!"

He just laughed, both of them noticing that despite her confusion she made no attempt to fight her bonds. It wasn't as if she had anyone to rescue her if this did go sour. Her mother was on a three day spa retreat and she had the house to herself for the rest of the week. But this was, after all, Stiles, wasn't it? Sweet, generous, Stiles who worshiped the ground she walked upon. Though this certainly wasn't the kind of behaviour she expected of him. He left the room, humming to himself as if this were the most normal thing in the world. She heard him go down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

When he was out of sight she tested the ties, but they were solid. She wondered if there was a boy scout patch for this kind of knotting, and had to fight the hysterical urge to giggle at how odd the entire situation was. She had had no idea how very easily she could be turned on until this night. He hadn't even really touched her yet and her pulse was racing, her face flushed. And this was _Stiles_, as in: Definitely a virgin Stiles. Even so, she couldn't help but wait for his arrival with bated breath.

He re-entered without the hum, and when she saw him she gasped. He twirled a knife between his fingers, one of the ornate, and razor sharp, cooking knives her mother had gotten as a "40th" birthday gift about three years after she actually turned 40.  
"No! Stiles, no. What the hell is that for!" Lydia panicked, pulling at the scarf desperately. He slid the knife into his back pocket and caught her in his arms, holding her still.

"Hush." He said, pressing his finger to her lips, "I told you I'm not going to hurt you, he wouldn't let me anyway, as much as I may like to. But if you don't stay very fucking still I may not be as precise as you'd like. Now, **_don't move_**." The last he growled between gritted teeth, and she was still. He kept an arm around her, his hand on her backside, retrieving the knife with the other. She couldn't help but whimper when he oh so carefully touched the tip to the hollow of her throat, but he trailed it down between her breasts, halting at her bra. She wasn't expecting him to suddenly slip the blade beneath it and slice it apart.

Both Kitsune and human grinned at the sight of her breasts bouncing free of their coverings, and he dropped the knife, so as to take them in his hands. She moaned at the contact, pushing her chest against his palms.

"Sweet, sweet human girls." The fox whispered to himself, running his fingertips around her hardening nipples. "Did you ever wonder how often he imagines this? Well, perhaps not quite as fun as this. I have added my own personal flair, don't you think?" He said out loud, shocking her by leaning in to flick his tongue over her nipple. She cried out at the wet heat against her sensitive peak. He pulled away almost immediately, and began rubbing his thumbs over both, almost roughly. She tried to squirm away from him, so sensitive to his touch that the pleasure approached pain. He was mercilessly unrelenting however, her moans only driving him on. "Don't think I'll stop when you think it's too much, gorgeous. I'll stop when I am done. I'll stop when I've made you come so many times you can't see straight. I'll stop when I know you'll never be able to be touched again without remembering me. I'll stop when I am satisfied." She wasn't sure what turned her on more, his course words or the rough calluses on his hands as they rubbed over her soft skin.


	3. Chapter 3

Lydia's core ached with need. The more desperate he made her, the emptier she felt, and his assault of pleasure on her breasts was showing no signs of stopping. She squirmed to no effect, his hands were on her hips and felt as if they were made of diamond in their solidity. The feeling was too great, an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure and pain, she'd never had anyone make her feel so absolutely desperate. He nipped his way down each breast in turn, taking her nipples between his sharp teeth and flicking his tongue over each pink peak. It hurt just enough to make her head spin, and yet she found herself wanting more. As his mouth was busy his hands got to work introducing themselves to her backside. She bucked her hips forwards as he squeezed her buttocks, the proximity to her soaked centre making her whimper.

"Poor little thing," he cooed, stepping away from her completely. She cried out at the loss of him, and again that dirty laugh was snarled at her. "I thought it was too much for you? Weren't you doing your very best to get away from me just moments ago? Perhaps you don't know what you want quite as well as you think? We'll show you. I'll show him. You'll thank me for it, I can tell by the way you're begging now." And she was, whispering pleas for him to touch her again, promising all manner of favours in return for his hands on her body.

Within him raged a battle of dominance, the essence that was Stiles and the creature that merely stole his tongue to speak and his hands to do the unspeakable. The fox was feeding off her desperation and confusion at her own lust, growing only stronger. It caught the glint of the knife on the carpet, and made a show of wrapping each finger around the handle before he picked it up. She was a little less wary this time, but he didn't intend on letting her settle completely. So he held the blade as he leaned in to kiss her again. Loving the squeal she emitted against his lips as he pressed the cold metal of the side of the blade against her breast.

Lydia couldn't deny the craving this caused, though she fought with her own shame in admitting it, even to herself. And when he sliced through each bra strap she found her lust speaking for her, pushing him on,

"You owe me $50 for a new bra." This was more herself. Sharp tongued Lydia with the glittering wit, though she had to admit that it wasn't her best line. Her mind was clouded with need. This time when he laughed it was almost human, and he kissed her again with more warmth than he had before. But when he pulled back his eyes were hardened once again.

"I like them better without." The Kitsune hissed, holding the knife between his teeth and pinching both her nipples so hard she squealed at him to stop. He obliged her only for the pleasure of stepping back She was beautiful like this, flushed and panting. Her ample chest heaved with every breath, and her hair flowed like water over that lily white skin. The monster wanted to mark and scratch and bruise her. It wanted to make sure she knew she was his. But troublesome Stiles would not allow the most twisted of the demon's ideas to come to pass. Weak as he was the protective streak that Lydia brought out in him kept the Kitsune from his true nature. The fox knew not to push him, any struggle between the two risked the scale being pushed too far in Stiles's favour.

The blade was back against her skin, he circled her with it, the tip of the metal tracing a path over her stomach, her hips, and across her back. She shook with anticipation, and fear, lifting herself onto her toes at the sensation. Perhaps there was darkness in her, too. Or simply a portion of her soul that hungered for it. The tip of the knife nudged at the waistband of her underwear. Slowly he slipped them down, watching the material slide over the smooth curve of her arse. He relished the sight, and without warning his hand came down swift and sharp across her backside. She yelped in shock more than pain, heat radiating from where his palm had landed, sending a tingle across her most intimate place.

"Oh God" she groaned, ready to begin begging for release.

"Only us." He replied, spanking her thrice more for good measure. Her thighs shook and the raw need was overwhelming. None of this made sense to her, but some how she didn't need it to. Lydia's brain, which so needed to logically work through each moment of her existence, was strangely stilled under his hands. Her underwear fell to the floor, and a drop of the honey between her legs ran past the freckle on her inner thigh. He saw it, and caught it on his finger. He licked the drop from his finger and grabbed her by the hair, spinning her around to face him. He kissed her hard, and she tasted herself on his tongue. Her moan was intense and filled with longing, the taste lingering after he pulled away from her.

He knelt before her, dropping the knife beside him, and she blushed at his proximity to her core. A hand on each hip he pulled her towards him, and pressed his lips to her stomach, then to each thigh. Without warning he spread her legs, and grinned up at her when he saw just how desperate he had made her. He delicately spread her folds with his fingers, his touch so slow and light that it only frustrated her further. When he flicked the tip of his tongue over her now revealed and vulnerable clit she let out a whimper of lust so beautiful he did it twice more just to listen to the sweet music again.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd been holding her on the edge with gentle flicks of his tongue for at least twenty minutes and she wasn't sure she could handle it any longer. He only paused to mutter praise at her reactions, and to mock Lydia's constant pleading for release.  
"You'll lose your voice if you make any more noise, and what's a banshee without her scream?" He growled, before nipping hard at the apex of her thighs. She squeaked so he did it again to the other. He hated himself for this, Stiles struggling against the monster until he almost managed to tear a scream from his own lips, but the wickedness muffled him with it's laughter.

"Leave her alone." Stiles begged the beast, as it stroked Lydia's skin with his fingertips.

_Oh but Stiles, don't you want to know what she feels like? I'm inside your head, you know. I've seen all the fantasies. Now look at me, look at how charitable I'm being. Giving a dying boy the girl of his dreams, if only for a night. Or two. Didn't she say she had the house? Hmm. There's hours of fun to be had! You should be **grateful**. _The Kitsune growled, dipping a finger between her wet folds and pausing at her entrance. She bucked her hips and moaned breathlessly. _What a sweet sound. Don't you just crave it? Doesn't it just make you want to claim her? _

"Not like this. She doesn't know it's not me. It's wrong."

_She's not exactly **complaining, **is she, Stiles? In fact, let's make her beg for it. _His fingertip began circling her entrance, and he pressed his lips to her centre. She cried out, lifting her hips as if in rapture, seeking the heat of his mouth. He lapped at her clit, painfully slowly. It was far too little sensation for how desperate she was and she thought she might go mad with longing. His finger slipped inside her, and she was acutely aware of the sensation. Only an inch inside he stopped, causing her to whimper for more, beg for just another inch, just a little deeper. He withdrew it with a snort of amusement at her despondent groan.

"I am oh so glad it was you, Lydia." He whispered, as she bit her lip, pushing herself into his palm. Each word only lending to the intensity of his torture. "I love this part of human form. You were such a huge part of his consciousness. Impossible to ignore. I loved the fantasies best. All the times he imagined this. I doubt in his day dreams you were quite this desperate. Or filthy. Surely this isn't his flawless Lydia? It can't be. He respects you far to much to treat you the way I intend on treating you, sweetheart."

She was sure she'd melt at that line. His voice was electric. Thrumming down her spine and arching her body towards him. A hand crept up her torso, cupping her heavy breast and pinching her nipple between his fingers. She moaned in what felt like perfect agony. Blissful pain. She hated herself for it, and yet was sure she'd drop dead if he stopped. A wicked part of her soul met with the monster within him, and gave her over to his hunger.

"Not yet, gorgeous." He muttered, standing up to face her. He tugged his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side and smirking at her. She ran her eyes over him as hungrily as he had her, searching for her favourite symbols of masculinity. Seeking out edges and angles, following his jawline, moaning over the squared shoulders, all comforted by the gentler slope of his pecs. Of course he was on the slimmer side, and she found herself loving it. He was wiry, toned and slender. There was a dark happy trail she longed to run her fingers through, and a subtle shadow of an Adonis belt was making her beg to see more. Lydia wanted to follow the grooves with her tongue, wanted to watch him buck his hips and offer himself to her.

"Oh god you bastard." She sighed, reserving herself to the delicious suffering. He spun her around and gave her rear end a sharp smack. She let out an outraged cry, even as the heat his hand left behind spread between her legs, creeping down to her knees and making them tremble. Her reaction did not go unnoticed, he grabbed a handful of her hair roughly, and pulled her into his chest, nuzzling into her neck.

"Little princess likes it rough then, who knew." He whispered into her ear, and within himself muttering to the soul he kept caged: _"Don't be disappointed that she's not some sort of pure and innocent angel, they all have kinks, eh?" _

_"I_ never_ thought she was innocent, I don't care. Leave her be. Just leave her." _Stiles still struggled for control, despite the demons strength and the intoxicating scent of her perfumed curls.

_"If she wanted me gone she'd have told me to go." _

_"She's **scared** of you." _

_"Who isn't? Don't worry Stiles. It's not her I'm after. I just want to enjoy her for a little while." _His hands released her, finding the button of his jeans and releasing it with a sort of relish. She felt the suspense rising with the sound of his zipper and on impulse arched her back so as to press herself against the bulge in his newly revealed boxers. She thought she may lose it at any moment, wanton as she was. His hand stroked down her back, traveled the curve of her buttock, and settled between her legs, opening her pink folds to him. He leant back, admired the view, and pulled his member from his underwear. Circling it with his long fingers he positioned himself at her soaked entrance and rested his tip there. She whimpered and bent her head to the floor, in response he grabbed another handful of her hair and yanked her head back, and pointed to the mirror on the wall facing her.

"You _watch. _Don't you dare close your eyes. You watch me fuck you."

Lydia let out a cry of rapture, legs shaking as he pushed an inch into her, muttering a mix of compliments and curses as he did so.


	5. Chapter 5

"I hate you."

_Sure you do, Stiles. But she doesn't._

"You're sick. You're sick and disgusting and the moment I get the chance I am going to end it for both of us."

_You really think it'll be that easy, Stiles? You really think I'll just let you take control? I'd sooner slit her throat, and you don't want that, do you? So you sit tight and you feel every empty second of it. I suppose she should hate me. Or you, for being so weak, and so unable to stop me. But I haven't played a fair game here. That's not my style of play. She should be begging me to stop, if she were in her right mind. But humans are so full of hot, sweet emotion, all those hormones. You win over the body and you'll soon win over the head. I've only got you to thank for this lovely night. You did all the work, your form is held so dear in her heart, you loved and loved and now I get to reap the rewards. _

He gave her another inch, she lifted onto her toes and let out a low groan of surrender, begging hopelessly.

_Of course, you mustn't blame the poor thing. It's not just her own deep seeded issues and twisted sexual drives that win her over, I've added a little magick of my own in there. Fed her dark side, heightened her senses. We all know you didn't do so well with the ladies before me, I've been working hard for you Stiles. _

"Not like this. You can't just control people."

_That is where you are wrong, so very wrong, Stiles. This is what I do. This is what I am. I am a predator, you are my prey. She is nothing but a meal. Feeding a gnawing hunger. I've had the form of kings, with all the bodies I could devour at my disposal. Your pathetic life has left me starving. And you let her alone with you. You did this. I am going to break her, and after you're gone I am going to keep her. How do you like my plan, Stiles? I am going to rob her of everything and keep her as my own and there is nothing you can do about it. _

Stiles shrunk away from the thoughts in his own head, cowering in the back of his own mind. The demon had other ideas, the surge of pain from his hostage was invigorating for the creature. He thrust his hips forwards, yanked her head back, and allowed her yelp to wash over his ears. She shook with bliss at being filled at last, it mixed with his emotional intoxication and left her burning.

He didn't give her long to adjust before leaving her empty, then pushing his length into her again. The shock of each thrust left her teetering on the edge, her mind took a moment to register the hard and hot climax that was shaking her to the bone. He was relentless, she was pushed harder as his pace only sped, always withdrawing so completely that she had a moment to miss it before it was again moving into her. So close, so close to a second oblivion so soon after the first, she felt her muscles tighten this time, and was acutely aware of every moment. Not even a second from release he moved away from her completely, leaving her slumped over, hands pulled upwards, cursing and screaming for her lost moment of toxic pleasure. Every drop of her desperation the monster gladly downed. Deepening his spell's roots in her mind with this new power.

_The more she gets, the more she wants. Perfect. Exactly what you need in a good fuck. And she is. Tight little thing. _

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Stiles screamed inside his head, pounding on the walls of his mind.

He walked around her, and picked her up from her slump.

"Did I say you could relax? We're not done here." He lifted her up, pulling her legs around his waist. Lydia wasn't ready when he pushed himself into her, far deeper at this angle. Hands beneath her thighs for leverage he went a little slower this time. Each second felt drawn out to her, every nerve on fire. It didn't take him long to get her back to the edge, but he was careful to keep her there, watching her face as it contorted in pleasure and agony.

"Harder, please!" She found her voice, and the wicked thing complied. The way he pounded into her had her screaming in seconds. She was there and the way she was tightening around his cock had him right there with her. It was as if the air was sucked from the room. The positive surge of energy produced in their climax was toxic to the nogitsune, it shied away to some deep crevice of his being, and rested amongst the haunted memories of the mother he'd lost.

Shaky as Stile's was he held her up as she came down from her high, and was quick to release her hands when she could stand. He filled the air with apologies as he helped her to her bed, and cursed himself as he re-dressed. His eye caught the glint of the knife on the carpet, the urge to drive it into his own chest almost overwhelming him. But the demons words of warning were stronger still, and he distracted himself by searching through Lydia's closet for a nightdress. He chose the most modest one he could find, scared that any moment the creature would return at full strength and be tempted to go for her again. She groaned as he sat her up to slip the dress over her head.

"Stiles." She murmured, and he shushed her, tucking her beneath layers of blankets. But she was persistent, tugging at his shirt until he reluctantly slipped into bed with her. "Don't blame yourself, Stiles. I'm not angry. I know it's not.. not.. you know... you..." She was half asleep, murmuring into his shoulder as she slipped deeper into unconsciousness.

"No, you're delusional. I'm so sorry. You can be angry when you wake up." Her reply was inaudible, but the way she nuzzled into him made his heart warm for a moment. She did look so beautiful like this, messy and still a little flushed.

_Enjoy it while you can, neither of you are leaving. I'm going to have my fun, Stiles. Or she suffers the consequences. _


End file.
